


Always Return

by Iaveina



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: F/M, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-11
Updated: 2014-01-11
Packaged: 2018-01-08 07:30:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1129969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iaveina/pseuds/Iaveina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a moment he couldn’t remember who he was, but he did know that her voice would lead him towards the light.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always Return

**Author's Note:**

> The wonderful [Hann](http://sowrongbutsowrite.tumblr.com) prompted me with “Michael wakes from coma, sees Lindsay first”…so I wrote it, and here it is!
> 
> Can be found on tumblr [here](http://iaveinabox.tumblr.com/post/72635932825/always-return).

For a moment he couldn’t remember who he was.

The heaviness pulsing through his limbs and the thick fog surrounding his thoughts, caging them in and dissolving them into nothing, wouldn’t let him remember and so he gave in to the feeling of aimless floating and let it envelop him, let it keep him safe from the nagging feeling at the back of his mind that something was unbelievably wrong.

As time went by he realised that this wasn’t the first time he had felt like this; heavy and unable to move. Trapped within the confines of his own body and mind without a way out as his brain struggled to piece together the puzzle that was his life from the tangled web of confusion and the not-quite-right. It was funny really,  just how much silent effort was put into forming memories and how much power was needed to store thoughts and feelings into one coherent stream of consciousness in a way that could be played back whenever its human deemed it necessary.

But Michael Jones couldn’t summon the power or the effort to do so, so he allowed himself to drift away; the suffocating fog rising up to claim him as a dull ache throbbed in his chest.

Sometimes a voice pierced the fog, tired and hoarse but a lifeline that Michael clung to all the same. The voice was sometimes accompanied by a soft grip on his hand, the feeling strange amongst the heaviness that weighed him down, and he it left him feeling inexplicably safe.

‘ _Please come back to me Michael_ ,’ the voice would whisper quietly, hitching as he lay trapped in the shell of his body; filling his senses. ‘ _I love you so, so much. Just come back to me. Please?_ ’

And he tried, as his strength slowly returned, to respond to the voice. A twitch of a finger here and there that went by unnoticed and left him physically exhausted. A flicker of an eyelid unable to bear the light overhead and closed back into the darkness within. He tried to take a deep breath, to exhale air in frustration, but couldn’t fight against the heavy pressure in his chest and the obstruction down his throat.

But through it all, when each attempt left him weary and weaker than before, the voice still spoke to him. A gentle hand caressed his cheek, ran through his curls, gripped his hand. A simple hum pierced through the haze to spread warmth throughout his limbs and guide him towards the light.

To her.

And when weary brown eyes struggled open she was there. Her unkempt hair was lank, red tendrils framing her face limply, and he was struck by how pale she was; far paler than he’d ever seen her and her face lined with intense worry and…was that fear?

The fear aged her.But as she raised his hand, his anchor to her, and lightly pressed chapped lips to his frozen skin he could see the unhindered relief rest across her features, adding a light to her eyes that her gaze had lacked and transforming her completely before him.

She smiled, resting his hand against her cheek and reaching forward to stroke his hair, and whispered.

“Welcome back, Michael.”

 


End file.
